


Hanging In There

by TheDarknessFactor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, No Spoilers, Post-Captain America: Civil War, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6240775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both sit cross-legged, knees touching.  It’s been the three of them for so long now that any reservations Sharon initially had about Bruce’s presence have all but evaporated, and there’s little hesitation on her part when she threads her fingers through his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanging In There

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for a prompt that my inbox ate, but I remember that it was something along the lines of, "You could write Bruce/Natasha/Sharon and keeping a secret, or just about Brucenat and Tony finding out about their relationship." I've been wanting to write these three for so long that _of course_ I had to pick the first option.
> 
> Think of this as an 'on the run from Thanos' scenario.
> 
> Hope you guys like it!

The non-light at four in the morning paints the world in gray.  Even Natasha’s normally-bright hair doesn’t stand out, looking more brown than red.  Still, Sharon is hard-pressed not to let her eyes stray to her very often.

Natasha is never easy to read, but she is almost never at peace when she sleeps.  Her muscles will tense up, to the point that her brow visibly furrows (Sharon has to stifle the urge to smooth it, more often than not).  At this moment, however, she is lying spread-eagled, her legs sticking out of her sleeping bag, mouth hanging open.

A lone hiker out here might mistake them for enthusiastic campers, or a couple on a romantic getaway.  They would probably change that perception if they knew about the glock strapped to Sharon’s thigh, or the handgun she keeps in a holster on the small of her back.

“Water?”

Sharon glances up at Bruce, who is holding a recently-filled canteen out to her.  She takes it with a nod of thanks, taking a long swig before decided that she should ration it carefully (he’s only just finished boiling it, rendering it safe to drink).  

“You should get some sleep,” she tells him.  “We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.”

“You think?” he asks ruefully.  Instead of climbing into one of the other sleeping bags, he settles on the ground next to her, almost as relaxed as Natasha.

Almost.  There’s always something under his skin - like a buzzing.  Sometimes, it seems obvious that that thing is the Hulk.  Other times, Sharon’s not so sure.

They both sit cross-legged, knees touching.  It’s been the three of them for so long now that any reservations Sharon initially had about Bruce’s presence have all but evaporated, and there’s little hesitation on her part when she threads her fingers through his.

It’s enough to elicit a sigh from him, and a moment later a weight on her shoulder signifies that he’s more tired than he was letting on.

“Think it’ll ever end?” he asks.  

They have dumb conversations like this sometimes - talking about the future, when they can stop running.  Sharon prefers to focus on the present (staying alive, keeping the two constants in her life at her side), and it’s these kinds of bullshit questions that put her in a bad mood.

Some part of her must be more melancholy in the early morning, however, because she finds herself actually answering.

“It’ll have to, one day,” she answers.  “Probably Thanos’ll find us, and we’ll all go out in a blaze of glory.  Something like that.”

“Fun.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked.”

He laughs.  “Natasha keeps making up these ridiculous stories about how the three of us are going to save the world, or something.  Hiding in the jungle isn’t really conducive to that, but they’re pretty entertaining.”

“Of course they are,” Natasha mumbles from where she’s lying.  “I made them up.”

“Good morning,” Bruce says.

“Is it, though?”  Natasha sits up and stretches, and Sharon deliberately does not notice the curve of her biceps as she does.  “Did you sleep, Bruce?”

“Um…”

“No,” Sharon answers.

“Well, we’ve got a couple more hours,” Natasha says, already looking ten times more alert than Sharon feels.  “You should sleep too, Sharon.”

“No way - you’re the one getting over a fucking stab wound - “

“Details.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, about to stand so that she can force Natasha to go back to bed, but when she glances at Bruce it’s to find that he has, in fact, fallen asleep.

“Aww, that’s adorable.”  Natasha smirks at them.  “Guess you’d better stay awake, then.”

“Guess so.”  It’s fine - Natasha had the first watch last night, so Sharon can afford to stay up a little longer.  She shifts slightly, careful not to jostle Bruce, just as Natasha sits and curls into her other side.  

“Really?”

“Don’t know what he sees in your shoulder,” Natasha drawls.  “It’s bony.”

“Then go sleep in the sleeping bag.”

“No thanks.”  Natasha sits up for a moment, long enough to thread her fingers through Sharon’s hair and kiss her.  Sharon keeps very still, aware of Bruce on her other side, but she can’t stop herself from leaning into Natasha at least a little bit.

“Should be able to stay awake now,” Natasha proclaims.  

“I’m not sure that that’s how it works.”

She feels Natasha shrug before plonking her head back onto Sharon’s shoulder.  Sharon looks down at her hands, folded in her lap, and can’t stop the tiniest bit of warmth from settling in the pit of her stomach.  


End file.
